Short of Breath: ​Complexity in Theological Reflection on Covid-19

​ One of the symptoms of Covid-19 is shortness of breath. The virus attacks the lungs, and those who lose their lives die of pneumonia, unable to breathe.[1] Breath is particularly poignant for Christians, with rich spiritual and biblical resonance, and the air we inhale is integral to the cycles of creation that sustain all life. The Covid-19 pandemic is blowing its way around the world, with huge impacts on every nation, on the earth and the atmosphere. Every person is vulnerable to the disease, but human vulnerability is very different for those with resources than for those without; Covid-19 is exposing inequality. In this vastly complex and rapidly changing global context, how do Christians do theology? What sense do we make of it? Where is God in all this?

This article advocates for a praxis theological reflection process informed by complexity theory. A complexity perspective is interested in diverse interconnecting realities in multi-faceted and fluid situations, willing to cope with the anxiety of things not necessarily making sense or falling into neat predictable patterns. The effects of Covid-19 on human health and society and the natural environment, and the effects of a range of factors on Covid-19 raises a vast field for theological reflection. The project aims to be generative rather than conclusive; to open lines of enquiry rather than to apply doctrine. It chooses three ‘themes’ related to Covid-19: the experience of having the disease, the universal and the unfair nature of the disease’s effects, and impacts of and on air pollution. Each theme is explored biblically using elements of theological reflection process.

A way in: complexity and theological reflection

It is natural, even possibly accurate, for pastors to assume that their congregations want clarity from the church, sermons not too complicated, messages of reassurance. While it cannot be wrong to reaffirm the simple truths from the heart of the Christian faith, this is not an adequate theological response to rapidly changing and deeply disorienting times. The Spirit who “blows where it chooses” (John 3:8, NRSV), “inside and outside the fences”,[2] is not easily contained within a three-point sermon when what could previously have been taken for granted has been blown away. Skills for dealing with complexity are required for those who would seek to interpret holy scripture and connect faith with life in 2020.

Graham Stanton defines complexity “as consisting of many parts with multiple connections.”[3] It draws attention to ambiguity and is suited to “contexts in which multiple inputs result in unpredictable and unstable patterns of cause and effect.”[4] This challenges our assumptions of what we can know or control. Complexity is not so much a science in itself as a perspective which can be applied across disciplines and subjects, whereever there is the need to examine “the relationships between the parts as well as the parts themselves.”[5]

The danger with complexity is becoming overwhelmed with detail, lost in never-ending interactions and cross-effects. Gys Loubser explains the process of placing limits on the information we can deal with at any one time, “which means that the complexity of a system needs to be reduced or interpreted in order to gain an understanding of it.”[6] This demands a high level of self-awareness of why we choose certain aspects and ignore others, what aims we are exploring and what biases we take for granted.

This article describes two pairs of contrasting ideas about Covid-19 effects in order to explore the principle that the art of complexity “lies not in thinking one in terms of the other in binary motion, but in terms of how the one is dependent and determined by the other.” This “opens up space for transdisciplinary enquiry that does not disconnect opposites, but thinks of them as part of a unity.”[7]

Those familiar with praxis theological reflection process may not find complexity too overwhelming. For over three decades the field of practical theology has advocated a wholistic interactive model of ‘doing theology’ in which a wide field of components are considered relevant for discerning the voice of God; bringing personal experience (phenomenology), emotion, subjectivity and a broad understanding of context into conversation with scripture, theology and the riches of the Christian tradition. Laurie Green argues that “All theology has context. All revelation must be mediated through some experience and therefore it has a context, and a surrounding situation that itself becomes part of the revelation God presents.”[8] “Theological reflection seeks to understand and interpret the world through the eyes of Christian faith using all the sacramental, credal and biblical insights that the Church has at its disposal – but it will be God in our experience of the world which will be the focus of theology’s attention.”[9]

This is “not an end in itself. It is there to serve as a tool in the transformation and conversion of that creation – that people and society may conform through peace and justice to the Kingdom of God as inaugurated by Jesus Christ.”[10] For John Swinton and Harriet Mowat the purpose of critical reflection on situations is “to ensure faithful practice and authentic human living in the light of scripture and tradition.”[11] Doing theology in a time of crisis requires looking broadly, asking hard questions, attending to personal response, and trusting that missional clarity will emerge.

Theme One: shortness of breath

Most people who catch the ‘corona’ virus known as Covid-19 become ill with a ‘flu’. Some don’t even notice they have it. A significant minority, however, become seriously ill with Covid-19 pneumonia, and can die. The most common sympton is ‘shortness of breath’, breathing fast and shallow, gasping for breath, as the virus attacks the lining of the lungs. Death is caused by respiratory failure.[12]

Reflecting theologically on respiratory failure takes us firstly into scripture. The Hebrew Bible has three words for ‘breath’: nephesh is life-force, understood to be in the breath (as in Genesis 1:20), neshmah or nishmat is the physical breath (as in Genesis 2:7), and ruach is both spirit and breath.[13] In the New Testament the Greek word pneuma has a similar double meaning, primarily used for the Holy Spirit. The resurrected Christ in John 20:22 breathes (literally blows[14]) the Holy Spirit into his disciples.

One common use of the word ‘breath’ in scripture is to note its ending as a person dies. Jesus’ death is described as him giving up his breath in Matthew 27:50, while Mark and Luke use the word exepneusen (Mark 15:37, Luke 23:46), meaning literally ‘exhale’.

This biblical understanding of the importance of breath is somewhat alien to western culture. We are more likely to locate spirituality and faith in the mind (brain, beliefs), in the heart, or in the hands and feet of ethical living.[15] The experience of lung disease forces a re-evaluation of the importance of what we easily take for granted, breathing in and out, and its godly significance.

Seeking the Holy Spirit in the breath leads us into our own bodies, memories and responses. Theological reflection demands emotional honesty and extending self-awareness in order to know in our own selves the truth of faith.[16] For the author this confronts me with memories of sitting with my mother in hospital, watching the tubes and her pain, afraid that this bout of pneumonia would be fatal. Praying in our own bodies brings awareness of how breath is constricted by grief and shortened by anxiety. Spiritual practices of many centuries and many traditions bring length to the breath and calm to the human spirit. The very name of God in Hebrew, Yahweh, is itself a breath prayer.

Theme Two: the universal and the unfair

No human being on the planet is immune to Covid-19; it is a new “novel” virus to which everyone is susceptible. In only four months it has spread to almost every country on earth. Has any other threat in human history directly affected the entire human race simultaneously? The universal nature of Covid-19 (brought about by unprecidented levels of international travel) has fascinating echoes in theology about what it means to be human and the nature of human sin.

However, the universality of Covid-19 is seriously skewed by the patterns of inequality in our world. While people with houses and financial reserves are able to follow instructions for ‘social distancing’ and keep themselves isolated and safe from infection, the poor of the world cannot. Epidemiologist Grace Noppert explains the factors at work behind statistics emerging from the USA where, for example, “while 14% of the Michigan population is black, 40% of COVID-19 deaths are among blacks.” She describes deep-rooted patterns of social and racial inequality, including substandard and overcrowded housing, unhealthy food, chronic stress and limited access to health care leading to “both increased exposure to infectious pathogens and a reduced ability of individuals to fight infections” in low-income communities.[17]

As Covid-19 takes hold in the world’s slums and refugee camps the sheer volume of human suffering will be barely imaginable.[18] This creates vast challenges for aid and Christian mission organisations dedicated to the welfare of the poor, compounded by reduced charitable donations and global barriers to travel, as well as the high risk of contagion.

Theological reflection on human vulnerability to Covid-19 plunges us deep into what it means to be human, and heightens our awareness of what we share as a species despite our differences. It also heightens our shared inhumanity, as injustice confronts our illusions of who we claim to be and of the social world we are responsible for creating. Universality proclaims the value of each person, while inequality proclaims the opposite, that some people are worth more than others.

Our scriptures contain much to affirm God’s creation of all people, and God’s insistence that all people be treated with justice. Paul’s sermon in the Areopagus begins in the fundamental Creator relationship between God and all humanity: “he himself gives everyone life and breath” (Acts 17:25, NIV). Job also affirms God’s lordship over all: “If he should take back his spirit to himself, and gather to himself his breath, all flesh would perish together, and all mortals return to dust” (Job 34:14-15, NRSV).

It is God’s Creator relationship with all people that is the foundation for God’s call for compassion and justice. This is expressed powerfully by the prophets who oscillate between honour of God, Lord of all, and condemnation of idolatry and oppression.Theological reflection on inequality demands of us ears to hear and eyes to see what we would rather not. It forces on us an acknowledgement of our own wealth and priviledge, as well as gratitude for the homes in which we live and the food in our fridge. Theological questions become missional questions as the church grapples with how to serve faithfully, how to use limited resources most effectively to serve the poor.

With courage we can begin to ask even bigger questions, about the fundamental shape of the world in which we live.[19] These become apocalyptic questions as we listen to voices from the world’s margins. Indian author Arundhati Roy describes the panic and hunger she has witnessed during the Covid-19 lockdown, and calls for more far-reaching change than just managing pandemic: “in the midst of this terrible despair, it [pandemic] offers us a chance to rethink the doomsday machine we have built for ourselves. Nothing could be worse than a return to normality.”[20]

Theme Three: breathing the air

The air we breathe is part of the intricate flow of systems that make up the atmosphere of planet Earth. The ‘planetary boundaries’ modelling of human impact on the earth warns of “large, irreversible changes”, i.e. disastrous breakdown of the framework that supports life. It draws attention to global damage from carbon emmisions, air pollution from nitrogen and other chemicals and damage to the freshwater cycle, all of which have massive impacts on climate, temperature, and living things.[21] Air pollution also plays a significant role in the Covid-19 story. Tracing the impacts of air pollution on Covid-19, and the effects of the Covid-19 lockdown on air pollution involves several inter-related areas of science, with research just emerging. Initial reports show that a) air pollution makes Covid-19 worse, and b) Covid-19 makes air pollution better.

a) Negative effects of poor air quality. Environmental and public health scientists have for many years documented the negative health effects of air pollution. A 2014 OECD report found that outdoor air pollution kills more than 3 million people across the world every year.[22] Breathing air that contains fine particulate matter (PM2.5) exaccerbates a range of illnesses, including Covid-19. A long exposure to air pollution increases the chance of dying from Covid-19 by 15%, according to a recent Harvard study. “A small increase in long-term exposure to PM2.5 leads to a large increase in COVID-19 death rate … The study results underscore the importance of continuing to enforce existing air pollution regulations to protect human health both during and after the COVID-19 crisis.”[23] Poor air from industry in north Italy and inner-city living in New York contributed to high death tolls.

b) Positive effects on air quality from societies in lock-down. Countries in lock-down have seen rapid decreases in air pollution, with less cars on the road and factories closed.[24] After just one week of national lockdown in NZ NIWA air quality scientist Dr Ian Longley reported up to 80% drop in nitrogen oxide levels by the Auckland motorwary,[25] and the Sustainable Business Network in NZ report that carbon emissions from industry halved.[26] Improved air quality has been seen by many as a significant ‘good news’ story from global pandemic, a ‘silver lining’ to the dark clouds. People have expressed surprise that we can change our habits and that air recovers from pollution so quickly. Climate activists have expressed hopes that improvements to air quality will be a motivating factor towards longer term sustained reductions in carbon emissions and other forms of human impact pollution.

Theological reflection on the state of our air takes us into conversation with the science around climate change and the role of carbon. The challenge is to hear the prophetic voice of those decrying the human burning of the planet through use of fossil fuels and destruction of forests and natural habitat. Biblical writers may not have known planes and cars but they did understand fire and the destruction it can cause. Seeing smoke could be a sign of towns burning, as in Judges 20:40, bringing fear and grief; Proverbs 10:26 describes a slow messenger as like “vinegar to the teeth and smoke to the eyes” (NRSV). God’s presence could be manifest in fire and smoke, especially in a liturgical context. However, Elijah’s experience in the cave was that God was not in the fire but in the “sound of sheer silence” (1 Kings 19:12, NRSV).

Art, poetry, music and liturgy can all be important avenues for theological reflection. Kevin Vanhoozer advocates “a special kind of literacy” required for Christians to “read the signs of the times.”[27] ‘Cultural texts’, such as ‘viral’ social media posts, can be a tool of engagement with shifts in culture. Excerpts from two such texts follow.

‘Rest now, e Papatūānuku’ by Maori poet Nadine Anne Hura:

Rest now, e Papatūānuku[28]Breathe easy and settleRight here where you areWe’ll not move upon youFor awhile…So be still nowWrap your hills around our absenceLoosen the concrete belt cinched tight at your waistRest.Breathe.Recover.Heal –And we will do the same.[29]

The other side of the virus,An opportunity to awaken.Yes there is panic buying,Yes there is sickness.Yes there is even death.But,They say that in Wuhan after so many years of noise You can hear the birds again.They say that after just a few weeks of quiet The sky is no longer thick with fumes But blue and grey and clear.…Today, breathe.Listen, behind the factory noises of your panic - The birds are singing again The sky is clearing, Spring is coming,And we are always encompassed by Love.[30]

Both poems express a sense that pandemic lockdown is a blessing to the earth. Both are addressed to 2nd person “you”; in ‘Lockdown’ the ‘you’ is open-ended, while ‘Rest now’ is addressed to the earth itself in the person of Papatūānuku. The encouragement in both poems is to breathe. Does the earth breathe? Does God grieve for air pollution? Does air pollution damage the ruach of God? How can people of faith be ‘a breath of fresh air’?[31]

A way out: complex questions

This article has delved into the complexity of theological reflection in relation to themes identified from the current diverse emergent realities of the Covid-19 global pandemic. It has explored the experience of suffering from Covid-19 pneumonia and two pairs of polarities and cross-effect: the simultaneously universal and unequal nature of human vulnerability to Covid-19, and the effects of air pollution on Covid-19 and visa versa. The significance of breath has been a focus, from virus sufferers being ‘short of breath’ to the suggestion that the earth itself is deprived of breath by air pollution.

It is the task of theological reflection to generate interesting questions. In a time of uncertainty questions are more important than answers. Moving through it all is God, inspiring questions such as “where is God in this?”, “what is God saying through this … to me? to the church?”. It is not the intention of this article to attempt a tidy resolution of the complex questions facing the church in 2020. The encouragement is for all Christians to listen to the world in which we live, to both the dominant and the marginal voices, to cultural texts and emotional reactions, and to bring these into conversation with scripture and tradition in order to discern the breath of the Spirit. We look for signs of God at work, even in tragedy, loss, isolation and sudden change. The purpose is to “participate in the unfolding historical narrative of God … to recognize who Jesus is and seek to live in the light of this revelation.”[32] To finish, the chorus of Fred Kaan’s lively eucharistic hymn, expressing the Christian hope for all creation, very appropriate for this Easter season:

[12] Patients with Covid-19 are likely to have shortness of breath, fatigue, sputum production, headache, and a high respiratory rate (P = 0.016). Death rate in cohort studied was 4%. Rong-Hui Du, Li-Rong Liang, et.al., “Predictors of Mortality for Patients with COVID-19 Pneumonia Caused by SARS-CoV-2: A Prospective Cohort Study.” European Respiratory Journal, ‘Early View’, 8 April 2020. DOI: 10.1183/13993003.00524-2020

[13] Of these words ruach is the most common, used 205 times. The spirit/breath of God is (almost) always ruach, but all 3 words are used for people and animals.

[14] The verb emphusaó is used only here in the Bible, meaning ‘blow into’, like we might blow up a balloon or blow into a trumpet.

[15] The ‘correct’ Sunday School answer to the question ‘where is Jesus?’ is ‘He lives in my heart.’ A more biblical answer might be ‘He lives in my breath.’

[16] Thomas St. James O'Connor and Elizabeth Meakes argue that “feeling, imagination, and images are essential to the praxis of theological reflection.” “Poetic Imagination: A Qualitative Study on Emotion, Images, and Verses from Sacred Texts in the Praxis of Theological Reflection in Pastoral Care and Counseling.” Journal of Health Care Chaplaincy, 14 (2) (2008): 133-145.

[17] Grace A. Noppert, “COVID-19 is hitting black and poor communities the hardest, underscoring fault lines in access and care for those on margins.” The Conversation, 9 April 2020. <https://theconversation.com/covid-19-is-hitting-black-and-poor-communities-the-hardest-underscoring-fault-lines-in-access-and-care-for-those-on-margins-135615>

[18] Around the world countless people are facing desperation from a sudden loss of income and mobility under lockdown. An Al Jazeera report on the situation in Tunisia (11 April 2020) interviewed a man named Jelassi who can no longer afford food for his family. "In such conditions you cannot work and cannot even borrow money … there will be a catastrophe, people can't stand it anymore, hunger leads to catastrophes." Sofia Barbarani, “'We need food': Tunisians struggle under coronavirus lockdown.” Al Jazeera news story, 11 Apr 2020. <https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2020/04/food-tunisians-struggle-coronavirus-lockdown-200411142312791>

[19] John’s emphasis on judgment and rejection of “the world” (e.g. John 12:30, John 16) is usefully explored from this perspective.

[21] Air pollutants are not just unpleasant but are “extremely complex, depending on their chemical composition and their geographical location and height in the atmosphere. Many relationships between aerosols, climate and ecosystems are well established.” Stockholm Resilience Centre, “The Nine Planetary Boundaries.” Stockholm University, accessed 14 April 2020. <https://www.stockholmresilience.org/research/planetary-boundaries/planetary-boundaries/about-the-research/the-nine-planetary-boundaries.html>

[23] Xiao Wu, Rachel Nethery, et.al., “Exposure to Air Pollution and COVID-19 Mortality in the United States”, Harvard School of Public Health, MedRxiv, pre-print, 5 April 2020. DOI: https://doi.org/10.1101/2020.04.05.20054502

[24] Emissions in Wuhan, China, were significantly reduced during January 2020, but not enough to avoid severe spikes in air pollution. Pengfei Wang, Kaiyu Chen et.al, “Severe Air Pollution Events Not Avoided by Reduced Anthropogenic Activities During COVID-19 Outbreak.” Resources, Conservation and Recycling, 158 (July 2020).